


Call me Sansa

by Northern_Lady



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Anne of Green Gables (TV 1985) & Related Fandoms, Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Imagination, Orphanage, Orphans, Short One Shot, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 03:04:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19286815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northern_Lady/pseuds/Northern_Lady
Summary: Orphan Anne arrives in Avonlea. Just a one shot scene.





	Call me Sansa

Anne sat on the bench of the train station at Bright River. Today was the day she would finally have a home. She looked around the train station in awe. The cherry tree across the way as in full bloom and beautiful, if for some reason he didn’t come, if for some reason this adoption was all just a dream, she would climb up into that tree and sleep for the night. 

A long while passed before a silver haired man passed by her. He ducked his head and pretended not to see her but Anne knew he had seen her. Maybe he was Mr Mathew Cuthburt? When Mrs Spencer had picked her up from the orphanage she had told her it would be the Cuthberts she’d be staying with. Anne waited on the edge of her seat for the man to return. Eventually he did, hat in hand and red faced with embarrassment or shyness. 

“You must be Mr Mathew Cuthbert” She said, politely offering a handshake. “I was begining to think that you weren’t coming for me and I decided that if you didn’t I would climb up into that cherry tree over there and sleep all night. I might be a little afraid but it would lovely to sleep in a wild cherry tree all silvery in the moonlight don’t you think?” 

“I’m sorry I was late,” Mathew said. “Come, the horse is over here. I can take your bag.” 

But Anne didn’t need him to take her bag, She told him so and prattled on and on about how glad she was to be leaving the orphanage and to have a home now and how beautiful Prince Edward Island was. As they rode she told him all about the many things she liked to imagine. About how flowers reminded her of ladies dresses and she loved fine dresses and about how she hoped it wasn’t vain to want pretty things because she didn’t want to be vain or wicked. She became worried that she was talking too much and Mathew told her to talk all she liked. At that she smiled and continued with her many ideas. In the end she lamented her red hair as her worst flaw but held out hope that her new home would make her nearly perfectly happy. 

“That’s Green Gables,” Mr Cuthbert said as they approached his home. 

“I have pinched myself so many times today to see if this was real but it is real, and I’m finally home.” 

They pulled the wagon into the yard and a woman came out. “Mathew who is that?” she said. 

“There weren’t any boy, just her,” Mathew said, sad about this revelation. 

“There must have been a boy, We sent word to Mrs Spencer to bring a boy.” The woman argued. 

“There wasn’t. Only her.” Mathew said. “I figured I couldn’t just leave her there.” 

“Well this is a pretty business,” the woman said, hands on her hips. 

Anne dropped her bag as understanding dawned on her. “You don’t want me? You don’t want me cause I’m not a boy? Nobody ever did want me. I might have known it was too good to be true!” And she started to cry. 

“Well there’s no need to cry so about it.” the older woman said, almost at a loss of what to do. 

“There is every need. You would cry too if you were an orphan and going to have a home and they didn’t want you because you weren’t a boy. This is the most tragical thing that ever happened to me!” 

“Well we’re not going to turn you out of doors tonight. You’ll have to stay until we investigate this matter. What’s your name child?” 

“Will you please call me Sansa?” the girl asked hesitantly. 

“Call you Sansa? Is that your name?” 

“No, it isn’t exactly my name but Sansa is perfectly elegant name,” Anne said. 

“I don’t know what you mean child. If Sansa isn’t your name, then what is?” 

“Anne Shirley, but it can’t matter what you call me if I am going to be here for only a little while. I’d much rather be called a more romantic name like Sansa, a name for a lady or a queen.” 

“Unromantic fiddlesticks! Anny Shirley is a good sensible name and there is no need to be ashamed of it.” 

“Oh I’m not ashamed. It’s just that I have imagined I was lady Sansa since I was very young and I don’t like to give up the name. If you must call me Anne, can you be sure to spell it with an E?” Anne asked hopefully. 

“What difference does it make how it is spelt?” 

“Oh it makes every difference,” Anne said emphatically. Print out A-n-n and it looks dreadful but Anne with an E looks quite distinguished. If you’ll only call me Anne with an E, I will try to reconcile myself to not being called Sansa.” 

“Very well, Anne with an E, can you tell us how the mistake came to be made that you were sent to us and not a boy?” 

Anne did her best to explain that Mrs Spencer had asked the orphanage for a girl and that she knew nothing else about the matter. And while the woman called Marilla complained and expressed her disappointment about the pickle they found themselves in, Anne imagined that she was a lady of a great house with a direwolf sigil and that her parents had been lost, not from illness but in far more tragic ways. Her father had been executed by an evil prince and her mother killed at a wedding. None of that mattered. Someday she would be Queen of the North. Someday these people who didn’t want her because she wasn’t a boy would regret that they hadn’t been kinder to the strong and regal lady Sansa.


End file.
